A Tout Le Monde
by CodyRhodesFan
Summary: Mark brainwashs his little victims into thinking that they should commit to their Masters and that they're banned from feeling anything but happiness, even at the darkest moments. Language; sex; violence; graphic; blood...Jeff/Mark.
1. Chapter 1

**I would like to thank Kassandra for the inspiration because…well, she is always mah inspiration, XD. Codeh for RP-ing stuff out with meh so I know where I'm going with this fic…X3. The songs that have inspired this fic is both "**_**A Tout Le Monde**_**" by Megadeth and "**_**Undying**_**" by Flowing Tears. Instead of Lily, it's Jeff though, XD. Both excellent songs if I do say so…but I'm focusing more on the Megadeth one.**

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Title: A Tout Le Monde  
Rated: +18 - language; violence; sex  
Summary: Mark brainwashs his little victims into thinking that they should commit to their Masters and that they're banned from feeling anything but happiness, even at the darkest moments. Jeff/Mark.  
Genre: Horror/Hurt/Comfort

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Chapter 1

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Tiny little feet continued to run towards his destination.

He stopped for a moment, only so wide green eyes would stare at a store filled with delightful little pieces of candy all wrapped in a box. Pretty colorful translucent wrappers that wrapped around pieces of hard chocolate and lovely solid toffee. Pieces of cakes adorned the store, cake in different flavors and icing, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mixtures of the three, adorned with pretty red roses and lovely little green leaves.

Jeff's hand touched the cold icy glass that was barring between him and the delightful treats.

Jeff blinked once, tears gathering near his eyes. He was famished and seeing food so well done and beautiful made Jeff want to bring one of those home but instead, the nine year old that had his sick mother in bed, his father who had been killing himself just to help her, and his brother who ignored him and pushed him just because he could.

Jeff's tongue ran along dry, chapped lips.

He wanted the food so bad…he was so hunger and today was his birthday. He'd just turned nine years old. He pulled out the allowance he'd saved for a year. He'd saved half of what he'd gotten and put it his black red-polka-dotted socks. He'd hide everything in his socks, from tiny pictures to pretty earrings he'd found in the street. He just didn't like Matt breaking and ruining his things anymore. He always wore them when he went out, just in case, and today, he had gotten up extra early in the morning to run off and try to find a present for his Mother. Pretty things made Jeff happy…it would make her happy, too, right?

His parents wouldn't wake up for another three hours and Matt another four. Jeff stared at the $30 in his hands. This might not seem much to other people but to the nine year old, it was like he was holding treasure into his hands. He turned around towards the store and seen how expensive some of the things were. He might have to give away all his money for it. Jeff shook his head, leaned down to put the money back into his socks. Then his hand went up to a man who was standing there, a man wearing dark black clothing and had black hair and scary looking eyes. He looked about in his twenty's.

Jeff was turning around, about to run away from the man when he grabbed onto Jeff's tiny, fragile hand. Jeff stared at him with scared little green eyes. The man leaned down to hold onto Jeff's face.

"…where are you going, you pretty little boy? Mark here is going to take you back to a safe little place he calls his home…"

Mark's face was so close to Jeff's, a kiss was placed onto Jeff's face, causing a shock of terror to burn through his scared little heart. A smooth pale tan knee tried to kick Matt in his leg but it wasn't good enough to hurt him. Jeff was defenseless and Mark was engulfing Jeff's fear like a love potion.

"Let gwo of me…" Jeff said, blonde strands of hair in front of his face. "Let gwo!"

Mark pushed him towards the glass window, and Jeff hit his head badly, causing a pounding headache to rise. Mark grabbed onto Jeff's arms and without anyone in sight in this early morning, Mark slammed Jeff back and back into the brick-made building, enough to rapture his head as blood seeped out of the back of his head. Jeff let out a whimper of pain. Tears burned down his eyes, as his shoulders shook in terror.

"…would you come with me now?"

Jeff shook his head, closing his eyes because he was afraid of Mark punching him or doing worse to the sweet little child. Instead, Mark smirked, 'oh, Jeffy…Jeffy…Jeffery Nero Hardy…" Jeff's heart thudded ten times faster, how did he know his name? "God, Jeffery, Jeffery, Jeff… you wanna go back to your dying Mother, your arrogant brother and the father that never loved you?"

Jeff's eyes slowly fluttered open only to spill tears quickly.

"No. They don't like you, Jeffy. You're not special. Matt is special. You aren't. I have to make you pretty…I have to make you special…" Mark's fingers entwined into blonde hair. "Only pretty, special people can help people, you know? You can't help your sick Mommy. No…because you're not special and you're not pretty, not like Matty is."

Jeff just stared at him, as if waiting to be guided through a dark tunnel and to reach a light at the end of it. "Mommy sways I'm spewical…you're lying to mes!"

"No, she's lying to you," Mark pinched Jeff's cheek and laughed as Jeff winced slightly. "She doesn't want her Jeff to feel like he can't do anything but she believes that you're nothing to her. She never loved you. No, Matt was the one. You're just a face for them to see…nothing more. Come with me, Jeffery and I'll make you special. I'll make you mine. All my little ones are special."

Jeff stared down at the ground as if he was waiting for an answer to somehow slap him in the face but nothing happened. Nothing at all. Jeff nodded in defeat, tears bubbling out of his eyes. "I'm unwovlabe…"

"Unlovable," Mark smirked, 'yes you are but I'm gonna love you. I'm going to show you what love is. And how much it hurts. Just…smile for me, why don't you? Smile…" Mark commanded.

Jeff nodded his head, and then a soft smile tugged at his lips.

"Yes. Just keep doing that because smiles make Mark happy and the happier Mark is, the more he'll help you."

"Smiles makes the wowld go wound!" Jeff exclaimed, jumping up and down, and grinning and Mark held Jeff's wrist again and pulled him away from the store and away from the lights, just as the sun gleamed brightly into the blue sky. Mark smirked. Jeff didn't know what he was capable of, what pain he'll make him feel, just that he had to smile no matter what or Mark wouldn't be as happy, would he not?

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"You know what are pretty?"

Mark and Jeff walked towards a black house. The outside of the house was enough to make Jeff whimper but he didn't. Instead, he walked alongside of Mark, trying to keep strength while he passed through broken windows, dead mice and a thousand bloodied knifes, scalpels and such. Jeff bit down his lower lip and turned up to look at Mark, in pure fear.

"N-n-no…" Jeff said softly.

"Pets." Mark said, leaning down beside him with eyes made of happiness so that Jeff would smile back at him. "And pets are always happy, aren't they? They always have something to smile about and happiness is also pretty…you're gonna be my pet, Jeff and I'm gonna be your little Master. You're going to have to listen to me and not talk back at me, okay? And I'll give you food and shelter. When it's time, I'm going to take you back to your house…and your family will love you…or else, your Mother will die. She'll die, Jeffy."

Jeff's eyes widened in pure pain and terror as he nodded towards Mark, trusting him completely and honestly. "I down't want my Mommy to die…I wove her! I really do! I really do! I down't…"

"Now, Jeff…" Mark shook his head, "smile at me. Do it."

Jeff's frown turned into a beaming grin and Mark nodded towards him. Jeff kept the smile playing across his lips, warm and lovely. Mark watched as Jeff clapped his hands into happiness when he kept on smiling for around two minutes. Mark brought out a dead baby's body out of his cot, causing Jeff to jump up a bit. "It's a toy, Jeff…you like toys, right?"

Jeff nodded his head. "It's a scwawy toy…"

And used to be alive. Mark added on, smirking at him. Jeff only held the baby girl into his hands, staring at her. Black hair and pale flesh, "hey, she wooks wike my Mommy's wong lost sister!"

Mark nodded. But you'll never know that that's really her, Jeffery. No, you won't. Mark grabbed onto Jeff's hand and pulled him near the cot, bringing out a camera as he told Jeff to sit down. He'd given Jeff a knife in one hand and told him it was a toy as well, but it was real, a tiny knife with blood staining it. "Okay, Jeffery, I'd like you to look up at me and smile. Smile pretty for the pictures. Smiling is what makes you pretty, pet…"

Jeff nodded and gave a big beaming grin, holding the 'toy' knife right and Mark snapped the picture as Mark grinned. "You can keep your toys." Mark truly didn't care if Jeff was a nine year old who was running around with a knife.

Jeff stared at the 'toy' in his hands. "It's a wnife… Mommy teach Matty how to cooks with this! Are you gonna teaches me stuffs with this too!" Jeff beamed excitedly at him.

"Yes, Jeffery, yes, I'll show you when you get older."

Jeff nodded his head and took his toys in his hands. Mark told him to follow him and Jeff did. He passed through cells and cells of dead people, causing Jeff to shiver. "They're sleeping," Mark said at every cell they passed. They looked dead, with blood falling out of their chests, eyes and between their legs. Their clothes torn and some of them were dying, eyes staring as they screamed at Jeff.

"They down't wike me!" Jeff exclaimed, tears running from his eyes as Mark told him to get it one of the cells. Mark stepped inside with him and shut the cell door with a tiny silver key. Jeff stared at Mark with the tears bubbling from his eyes. Jeff was frowning into his sad little world.

"Now, Jeff…see…this is why Mommy and Daddy and Matty don't like you…you don't smile. Now, smile, Jeffy…smile for me."

Jeff nodded his head and forced a smile to form against his lips. Even through the tears, Jeff made his face enlighten with the beaming smile. Mark smirked at him as he turned towards the cell door. "Now, I'll leave you alone to play with your toys, okay, Jeff?"

Jeff, still grinning his huge grin, nodded his head. Tossing around the knife and 'doll' into his hands, but as Jeff blinked. "Does the doll has clothes? When I buys the Barbies dolls, they always gives me lots of pretty clothes!"

With that, Mark nodded. "Hold on a second." He returned with a box of clothing and put it, searching through it and throwing a perfectly white shirt towards Jeff. It was tiny enough to fit through the dead baby.

After Mark had left, he turned towards a cell where a tiny blonde sat down there with cold blue eyes. "Are you ready?"

Adam nodded his head, smirking. The blonde was dirty, filthy, as if he'd been living in the cell, along with Jeff. He was happy. It showed as he played around with the knives in his hands, ready to just stab something but Adam put his 'toys' down. The thirteen year old walked alongside with Mark, stepping towards the centre of the Devil's symbol.

Adam smiled warmly, letting the dark energy flow in and out, as if his soul was being replaced as he closed his eyes and just thought, the blackness was the air and the air was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. Adam opened his eyes towards Mark and nodded his head. "Where is this Jeffery?"

"Playing with his aunt's dead body." Matt chuckled.

Adam grinned and moved to where Jeff was there, watching as Jeff took off the dead girl's dirty with blood pink dress and when Jeff had seen the blood and flesh, he let out a horrid scream.

"Jeff…" Mark smirked towards him.

Jeff looked at him, hyperventilating then after a few moments, a beaming grin stretched across his lips as he put the white shirt over the girl. Jeff picked up the knife and it accidentally slipped from his hand, going into his thigh, Jeff moved a bit and pulled the knife out, wanting to truly throw up at the sight of blood but instead, the grin only stretched wider. "Mark! Lookie! Me and the doll matches!"

"Jeff… _tu es joli, le petit ange de Mark, il t'aime._"

Jeff just stared at him as if he was talking to an alien but Jeff clapped anyways. "You are going to teaches me stuff too? How to say pretty little things?" Jeff said.

"He's a keeper," Adam said under his breath. "Jeff…_petite enfant triste, dans la masion de Mark..._"

_**

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**_

Tu as joli, le petite ange de Mark, il t'aime **= You're pretty, Mark's little angel. Mark, he likes you. *aime can be both like and love*.**

_**Petite enfant triste, dans le masion de Mark... = **_**sad and little child, in Mark's house… **

**-_- French is rusty. Hadn't taken it for a year. Excuse any mistakes. XD.**

**MUCH THANKS: to _Demoniac Bastard Scorpio_ for correcting mah suckish French, XD!**

**X Sam. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Damned Mark/Jeff fic from Hell…-_- but it's going rather well. O_O…never thought I'd say those words to MARK AND JEFF. But the plot goes with them well. I need Jeff to have Matt and nobody can play the role of an evil person other than Mark…so…here's the rest of this fic…*sighs* I fear I must combine another idea with this one to add some more substance…so…enjoy the more substance that shall be in this fic. XD. _WARNING: some of this stuff is seriously disturbing and shit. One can throw up from the things that run around in Sam's head. DO NOT TAKE ME TO AN ASYLUM. I AM SANE...just have a weird, disturbing imagination!_**

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Chapter 2

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**Ten Years Later…**

Thirty-two year old Mark walked through and through the cells, almost nobody had survived through the last bit of training and that night, he was going to get Jeff to fight with John Hennigan, or as he called himself "John Morrison". It didn't matter. All that mattered was that John was extremely dangerous and filled with fury, because they'd taken his Mike hostage and had chained him towards the wall. Jeff had been making sure that Mike tried not to get away…when he had, Jeff would pour an acidic liquid onto Mike's flesh, causing the flesh to melt like ice, leaving the bone fresh in view.

Jeff turned to stare at Mark, with his beaming smile. It took a year to shape him truly, after his tenth birthday, Jeff never frowned. Always forcing a smile to tug onto his sleep. Even in his sleep, Mark knew that Jeff smiled, even if he had nightmares. Jeff was strong, unbreakable and Mark admired that so badly. Jeff watched Mike's face wince in pain as a scream escaped his lips when Jeff used a plastic rod to put into the acidic liquid, a substance that this certain acidic couldn't melt easily…the plastic rod was hot and Mike watched as Jeff moved the hot plastic rod through his leg, writing his own name on it.

Mark's arms wrapped around Jeff's waist. _"Bonne cwance," _Jeff whispered under his breath. The nineteen year old was physically nineteen but still had the mental capacity of a nine year old. He never learned anything past what Mark had taught him, no school, no books, nothing - once Jeff had been caught holding a book and Mark had to punish him by making him bathe in that acidic liquid. Jeff's flesh peeled off so quickly, leaving the bone behind only but Mark made sure that it didn't go past Jeff's chest and to that, Mark had to wrap a dead corpse's flesh around Jeff's instead. Jeff, in fact, didn't even have a cock anymore after said acid had burned every part of it.

Jeff didn't care though. He smiled through it all as if he was taking a dip in a pool. He found it funny that Mike thought that was pain when Jeff had seen and had worse and he still smiled through it. Jeff's legs and body was covered with a jumpsuit made of fur from dead animals he found around. He'd sewn the fur together when Adam taught him how. He always had a dead mouse in his pocket to talk to.

Mark thought it was insane but Jeff found comfort in little white dead mice. It was the only thing that kept him going. Jeff would sometimes wake up in the night, saying a name that Mark knew too familiar, "Matt" and Mark would then have to drug him with narcotics and anesthetics so that Jeff would forget about it. Jeff would then wake up with horrible pain because Mark had to hurt him in his sleep. Mark didn't want Jeff to soften for a moment and Jeff continued to smile through the pain as if it didn't matter.

Jeff was Mark's pet and pets were obedient to their Masters. That was all that there was. If Mark wanted to strip Jeff, fuck Jeff, hurt Jeff, love Jeff, it was all his choice but Jeff had to be cooperative through it all. That was his purpose in life after all…nothing else made sense. Jeff would wear whatever pleased Mark, would say whatever Mark wanted, and would even always think of what Mark told him to think about…Jeff had no freedom and he forgot the term freedom. Whenever it did hit him, he was hit with a bang of loneliness and need but he pushed them away and continued to plaster a smile. When he felt like he couldn't smile anymore, Jeff sewed his lips into that smile as some sort of punishment he'd give himself and the thread would always be the color of Mark's eyes or the color of his hair.

Jeff knew not to disobey an order. Never again.

Jeff watched as Mike screamed one last time so Jeff threw the rod away. Jeff went inside of his cell to get his little 'doll', the dead baby he'd been given when he'd entered the house. Mike screeched in terror when Jeff kissed the toy, not knowing that it was a corpse. "You…sick…fuck…" Mike snapped at him and Jeff just stared at him in confusion before Mark spoke up.

"Michael, would you like to be burned alive…? Show him, pet…"

Jeff nodded and took off his pants, showing Mike the corpse flesh he had, and Mike's face was filled with revolt. The dead flesh was bloodied and Jeff never seemed to know what a bath was because he always smelled the same, filthy blood that coated his flesh naturally. And Jeff did bathe, only in more blood. Mark told him to. And then Mark would fuck him, Jeff wasn't allowed to have an opinion on that, only allowed to moan out Mark's name. Jeff remembered the first time Mark had fucked him…when he was nine years old, Jeff would only cry and scream. Jeff wanted to laugh at how foolish he was then. It only made Mark hurt him more and now, he was strong.

The flesh that Jeff had on now, the corpse flesh was extremely sensitive…even sitting on his legs made Jeff want to tear off his legs because of the horrid pain that burned through them but he'd always known that Mark didn't want him to think of pain so he thought of happy thoughts. He'd go back to his Mother some day and she'll be happy because he was pretty. Mark taught him that blood was pretty…because blood was what Jeff was made of. If nobody liked Jeff's blood, it meant that they didn't like Jeff. It made perfect sense to the blonde. Jeff had died his hair according to Mark's tastes. Dark mystic purple, crimson blood and dark black highlights that coated filthy blonde hair.

Jeff was a mess and he didn't care. It was hard enough to maintain a smile through the things he'd experienced to but he managed too and one day, he was going to go back to his family and they were going to be happy and Matt and his Father and his Mother would love him and he'd have a good house and a great future…this was what Jeff looked up to. This was the promise Mark had made to him ten years ago. This was the only white thread of hope that Jeff held on to.

Mark stared at Jeff, "_ma fille_, I would like to take you out tonight. I want to show you something."

Jeff nodded his head, and bowed down to him as if he was a king. Mark patted Jeff's collar. Jeff had a ton of devices onto him, a "piercing" onto his stomach that gave his body electrical shocks at random of times, just so Mark could see how long he could last. Some of them were so simple that they only made Jeff stand stiff for a moment but others were so agonizing that it felt like Jeff's entire blood was being stirring in heat. But Jeff could handle both. He didn't care. He had to please Mark no matter what.

Jeff had gotten his first few tattoos at nine and at ten, Mark had him covered in them. Mark had told him it was "beautiful ink" in which people admired but he didn't mention that most parents wouldn't want their children having one tattoo, much less coat their body in it. Then there was the collar, a thin studded strap that Mark strangled him with…just making it dig a bit was enough. But Mark would never kill him with it. The first time he was strangled, he was eleven and it was only because Jeff had let out a soft whimper when Mark was punishing him by making him see unreal footage of his family being tortured. The whimper fell when Jeff had seen someone attacking Matt by stabbing him repeatedly into the heart and then raping him violently. After Mark had strangled him, he forced him to "play with the sharks".

The water was extremely hot, enough to give him burns and it did. The sharks had bit his arms and legs, even his neck but he managed to stay with them in the tank for an hour. The boy couldn't even swim, hanging onto the edge of the tank and drowning repeatedly. Whenever Jeff would find a way out, Mark would push him back in and that lasted for an hour. Mark had let him get out because he still kept on smiling…it seemed impossible to do and it was but Jeff still did it.

He'd been beaten and hurt in ways that Jeff didn't even know of but now, all he wanted to do was cooperate to lessen the load of pain he'd normally get if he didn't. He hadn't gone out of the house since he was nine so it made his insides grin a bit so the smile that he had on his lips right then wasn't fake.

So that night, Jeff's insides were burning with happiness and his body felt joy for the first time in years. It felt like forever since he'd actually felt the happiness drench through him. He played with his little doll and Jeff stared down at the "doll", doing something he'd always felt tempted to do. He ran his fingers against the unopened eyelid and slowly flipped it so that he'd see the eyes and that was when he felt like letting a scream out.

Beautiful, cracked brown eyes. Jeff felt his entire body shake. Only his Mother had those eyes. Only Matt had those eyes. The same liquidness but so dead, the same loveliness, but so damn…dead. Jeff bit down his lower lip, his body quivering as he grabbed onto the eyes and tore them out of the doll, the eyeball snapping away from the flesh, leaving arteries and veins and a black endless hole. Jeff couldn't tear the other one out, not now anyways. He stared at the one eyeball into his hand, gripping it softly and stared at it, as if he was waiting for the eyes to just flicker but nothing happened. Jeff's finger ran along the moist surface of the white eyeball and in a fit of fury, he squeezed his hand, the white-gray eyeball spewed blood, slipping softly from Jeff's hand.

Jeff bit down his lower lip and then he licked the blood off his fingers. It was his only source of food. Mark wouldn't let him eat anything else but things that made Jeff feel sick, blood, flesh, wood, clothing, things that just made him feel sick. Jeff had only remembered the candy he'd seen ten years ago whenever he'd been forced to swallow the substances he'd eat and Jeff found himself begging for IV, something real, something that wasn't insane. That was years ago. Jeff wasn't as foolish now. If he begged for IV, Mark would just shove his cock into his mouth. Jeff knew every move he made and how the consequences would effect him. Mark would never kill him, Jeff was sure of that, no way…but he'd torment him of course, torture him in pure melancholy. It was such a daily routine now that Jeff barely cared until Mark realized that Jeff was getting used to it so he had to find something more extreme and severe.

Jeff looked back at the doll and stripped her off her white clothing, now batted with blood that was purely Jeff's. Jeff stared at the body, the cuts that he'd made that were closed. She can't bleed anymore and that irritated him. He wanted to torture something too, to make it feel pain, even if it was a little girl, Jeff honestly didn't care anymore. His finger ran against the side of the girl and he stared at the white cloth. Then he smelled it. Smelled exactly like his blood, salty metallic scent that made Jeff dizzy now. He'd been smelling it too much but he couldn't get used to it. It was too much for his sensitive little nose.

Jeff waited for Mark to finish eating. He could smell the sweet, succulent aroma of Mark's food a mile away. Mark did that just to make Jeff's stomach queasy and it never failed. It was horrid being caged like an animal, with a doll, drinking blood and eating chipped paint off the floor and walls. Jeff heard the sound of Mark walking over towards him and eating a spring roll into his hand, opening Jeff's cell and Jeff stood up, watching as Mark pulled out a spring roll out of his pocket and it smelled like fish, something that made Jeff feel sick. Mark did that most of the time as well, either fish, jam or strawberries were fed to Jeff. They made him feel as sick as fuck and Mark just sat down and enjoyed Jeff's rashes, swollenness and pain. Mark shoved the spring roll into Jeff's mouth, causing Jeff to feel like throwing it back up but Jeff swallowed it like a good pet.

"Come on, pet."

Jeff nodded his head towards Mark and followed him. Mark cupped Jeff's face and stared into his eyes, leaning down and capturing their lips into a rough kiss and even though Jeff didn't feel like it, he kissed back, wrapping his arms around Mark's neck. Jeff felt so vulnerable when Mark's arms wrapped around his waist, as if Mark could crush him and he could. Mark's hand reached towards Jeff's collar and he tightened it, the tiny sharp studs slipping into Jeff's throat, causing Jeff to choke back a pool of blood threatening to spew out of Jeff's mouth. Mark finally slipped the collar off, and the feeling of Mark's lips against his bare neck - bare…his neck was bare, breathing, bare…Jeff's grins were too real to be fake. Mark grabbed onto Jeff's hand and pulled him towards the doorway. It was like he was nine years old again. Everything looked different, fearful and new and he just wanted to get out.

And then the brush of the night air, the sweet moon, the dots they called stars, the people walking around that weren't half-bloodied or beheaded, they were real people in colors and beauty and - Jeff was grinned so badly and Mark was staring at him, chuckling at his childlike happiness as Jeff followed Mark deeper into the beautiful scenery that covered the city around him. Jeff felt like twirling and dancing around and just to be hit, he wanted to see if this was all real. It was the realization that he was out of the house that was pounding so deeply near his heart then there were eyes looking at him as if he was some sort of monster.

"Mommy, look at the scary-looking man!"

"Oh My God…"

"What the fuck is that bitch wearing?"

That was what made Jeff want the smile to drop but he still kept his head held high and strong. He tried to forget that this wasn't supposed to be his world, that his world was locked into his cell, with his dead baby aunt as a doll. He heard screams and shouts from wherever he went until Mark stopped towards a building and grabbed onto Jeff's hand and pulled him alongside him. There were many stairs until they reached the roof of the apartment they were in and Mark stared at Jeff while Jeff stared at the night sky.

Then flutters of pale yellow into the sky. Jeff gasped and stared at the flutters and Jeff only wanted to touch it. Mark leaned down only to cuff Jeff into his place, wrapping him around a pole. Mark cupped onto Jeff's face as Jeff stared up at the flutter of pale yellow.

"Look at me." Mark urged on.

Jeff looked at him but it was hard, it was like a smoker finally touching a cigarette…it was like a drug addict having the heroin shot into his hands…he wanted nothing more than just to stare at the pale yellow flutters of light, wondering what they were. Mark then pressed his lips against Jeff's neck, and that was when Jeff realized how damn cold it was. It was like coldness was wrapping around him, to make him feel numb and unreal, to make him feel fake and dead…Mark's touch was an electrical jolt of pain, burning into his deepest core as Mark tore off the suit Jeff worked so hard to make, snip and snap his hard work into pieces so that Jeff was naked and bare but still into place. It must be horrible if Mark wanted to keep Jeff cuffed and in place for this to happen. Which meant that there was a possibility that Jeff would flinch or move…how horrible would this pain be?

Mark's fingers traced along Jeff's face, just feeling it as Mark shoved something inside of Jeff's lips, causing an explosion of coldness to burn through him. "Let's see how long you can go without sleep. It's a narcotic that I've given you…with a bit of…experimental substances."

Jeff's eyes were staring up at the sky, as Mark stabbed Jeff's stomach, causing Jeff to curl up and he stared at the knife. Pain burned as Mark leaned down to lick the blood, Jeff watched Mark pull the knife out. This wasn't typical of him. This was a normal torture technique…there had to be something extremely horrible ready to attack him and hurt him. There just had to. Then Jeff heard a sound because him only to come close with sweet brown eyes, a pale face and curly black hair. Matt had a jar into his hands, smirking as he stared down at Jeff.

"Pet…this is going to get brutal."

Jeff watched as Matt slipped off the cap of the cold glass jar and shoved the jar inside of Jeff's stomach, causing Jeff to yelp as he heard buzzing and the feel of the sting on the inside of his body. Mark smirked and kissed Jeff's neck. "Pet, pet, pet…how does it feel like?"

Jeff continued to smile and Matt stared at him as if he was demented as he pulled out tweezers, taking the insect out of Jeff's stomach, and Jeff saw the little bee flutter its wings as Matt shoved it back inside of the jar, snapping the lid back on and staring at Jeff who was staring down at his stomach. "Did the bee sting him?" Matt suddenly asked, horrified.

"Yes." Mark smirked. "Did you not see his face?"

"You said this won't hurt him…you said that he was a bad guy or something. Poor thing didn't move…" Matt whispered.

Jeff just stared down at his body, staring at the open cut on his stomach and he was suddenly shaking into his body. The sting hurt moment by moment and Jeff was biting at the cuffs, trying to get them off. The sensation was horrid and Matt was grabbing onto the cuffs, staring at Mark who just pulled out a key in defeat and opened it for Jeff. Jeff grabbed onto Mark's knife and pushed it into his stomach, scratching the area with the surface of the knife. The tip of the knife was poking at more flesh but he didn't care. He just needed the relief. Jeff kept on smiling in perfection as he pulled the knife out, knowing that he'd have to live with it that way. Jeff slipped a finger into his stomach as he rubbed the sting with a cold finger, moaning in happiness as the irritation swelled down a notch.

"Fuck." Matt whispered under his breath. "How demented are you? Nobody deserves that kinda torture, Mark! Why?"

"You used know that people who was supposed to be punished are supposed to be punished! Or should I recap on your brother, letting him fret away, you fucking bastard? What happened to your little brother, Matthew? What happened?"

"I…I don't fucking know!" Matt snapped, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "God…you're a damn bastard…he doesn't deserve to feel that way! What are you doing this to him anyways? It's sick!"

"It's fun. Isn't it, pet?"

Jeff's grin melted into a soft smile as he looked over at Matt, nodding his head at him, trying to be as persuasive as he can with lovely long, full black eyelashes. Matt reached in close beside him and softly brushed his lips against Jeff's for a moment, kissing him as softly as he could've.

Mark's eyes burned with fury. "Matthew, that's my fucking pet!" He grabbed onto the back of Matt's shirt and tore him away from the kiss that Jeff and Matt had moments ago as Mark grabbed onto Jeff's hands and forced him to stand up, pushing him towards the pole. Jeff's body was jelly and he felt like everything was pure liquid….everything damn well hurt. Matt reached in for Jeff but Mark shot him a glare. "I can kill him."

Jeff nodded his head and stared up at the pale yellow flutters into the sky. Mark grabbed onto the jar from Matt's hand, tearing it away from him and Mark stared down at Jeff and that was when he slowly wrapped a bandage around Jeff's body. Jeff stared down, horrified. He'd never been bandaged…Mark glared back at Matt who simply stared back at him.

"I'm still your leader, Matthew and you don't question what I do and when I do it. Go. Now."

Matt nodded off and left and Mark carried Jeff, placing him over his shoulders and Jeff stared up at the pale yellow sparks up into the sky. Jeff reached in to touch them, staring down at the bug's flashing nature. "Fireflies, Jeffery," Mark said, coldly scolding him.

"Firefwlyy…" Jeff blinked, grinning at the source of light in his hand. "Firefwlies! Firefwlies!"

Mark slipped Jeff back down and grabbed onto the bug, barely letting it breathe as he shoved it back into the jar with the bee. Mark slipped beside Jeff, giving Jeff the jar. Why was Mark so kind to him all of a sudden…? Jeff just shook it off and enjoyed it while it lasted. It was some sort of reward, he knew…or something horrible was going to happen. Mark just stared back at Jeff, and Mark's lips were onto Jeff's neck. "Teach me how to love…" Mark whispered, his voice still cold and uncaring but the meaning behind those words made Jeff's body quiver with ecstasy.

"Teach me, pet." Mark blinked. "The way he fucking kissed you…the way Matthew kissed you…the envy busted right out of me, how your eyes burned with some sort of joy and love…how it made me want him dead…" Mark shook at the feeling, gripping tightly onto Jeff's body.

"Teach me, pet, teach me or you fucking die."

That was more like the Mark he'd known. Jeff nodded his head and reached to touch onto Mark's hand, shivering in coldness as Mark sat up and draped his biker jacket over Jeff's body. Jeff's eyes widened and keeping the smile on his face was so easy now that he'd felt Mark's warm jacket around him. Mark never did that to anyone or anything. The jacket was so huge that it went just below his knees. Mark zipped it upwards, now into a black tank, curled Jeff into his arms and held him tightly and fireflies danced right before their eyes. Jeff fell asleep with his heart pounding in some sort of fear for what Mark really meant. He couldn't really want Jeff's love…could he?

* * *

**_Bonne cwance (chance) = good luck._**

**_Ma fille = my girl._**

**_I got KitKat to tell me that's right! XD!_**

…**fireflies and bees. XD! FUN!**

**I DO NOT NEED NO MENTAL INSTITUTION. XP!**

**X Sam.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mark trudged as slowly as he could to Jeff's cell.

It had been after dinner.

Last night felt as if it was a mere dream to Jeff, for there was no change in Mark's behaviour. But Mark always visited Jeff's cell after dinner but this time he bore no food for Jeff whom did not comment on that at all. He stood up and moved when Mark gestured him to come over to him. Mark had opened up Jeff's lock and even though there was a hint of startling emotions running through Jeff's body, he kept quiet. This was how a pet was supposed to act; simply follow his Master. This was the way he learned -

Mark led him upstairs towards the dinner table, where everything was emptied except for a few silver chalices that bore some wine in them. Mark had pushed Jeff against the table and watched him, as if inspecting him from every angle. Jeff, knowing Mark's inspections, hesitated to breathe, freezing in place as if on a spell as Mark stared at the dress that Jeff had to wear since his furry jumpsuit had been torn. Adam had slipped on one of the dresses he had managed to preserve after killing 16 year old Tracey. The blood still stained and Jeff swore he could still feel Adam's fingers scratching against the immaculate skin of hers.

Mark nodded as if to say the inspection was in place. There was nothing that Jeff had that would make him feel any more significant than the position he was ushered. Mark had grabbed onto Jeff's hand and forcefully pushed him off. It was too hard for Jeff not to glance around the room, to see Mark's dining room. He never had the chance to be up into the floor in which Mark resided. The entrance was filled with prison cells, and underground, there were various torturing chambers that Jeff knew clearly enough but he'd never had a change to get to Mark's floor. He didn't pry or look around. He resisted the urge. He didn't have Mark's permission to.

"Look here."

Jeff turned his head around to face a beheaded corpse beside him. The blonde was beautiful, Jeff noticed almost instantly as he was told to crouch down and examine her corpse. Jeff knew murders' techniques before Mark had to ask him. The girl's fingers were polished perfectly, her body was curvy and her hair was in a mass of curls. His eyes were fixated upon the way that the head was cut, which he deduced was smooth yet almost effortlessly - a machete. "Adam." He simply stated at last. Adam killed by means of machetes and chainsaws.

"Pet," Mark called out to Jeff, causing him to look directly at Mark with eager green eyes, 'you're also missing something."

Jeff looked upon the body again before realising what he had forgotten to overlook. He moved towards Mark's dresser, which contained a number of sharp tools and grabbed onto a scalpel. Sitting down, he expertly ran the tip of it across the woman's body and the moment he'd opened it, the moment he'd realised what Mark had meant. Hundreds and hundreds of beige-black maggots rested around the woman's body. This was also a method that both Adam and Mark had used. Jeff nodded towards him. "Adam." Definitely, Adam. Mark simply wanted Jeff to open the woman up.

"Pet." Mark nodded towards him, sitting down beside the woman and grabbing onto the scalpel that Jeff had used, skinning her effortlessly. At the patch of skin that was exposed, Mark had stood up, causing Jeff to stand up as well. Usually, that was the command. Mark had grabbed onto Jeff's arm, looking at it before he placed the fleshy texture upon him. Jeff pulled out the needle and thread from his pocket, now used to stitching up almost every time he was around as he'd stitched the flesh onto him. "Do you know why I make you do this, pet?"

He shook his head. He was not commanded to speak. He was commanded to answer a question.

"I hate photographs." He simply said, moving towards Jeff, his hands onto Jeff's shoulders. "I hate photographs. They're a 2-dimensional piece of past that are filled with lies and deception that effect people's perception of others. They're a 2-dimensional piece that holds a 1,000 words…but none of them are rarely ever true. The smiling boy suddenly commits suicide. The happy pregnant girl really hates her child. The loved couples really depart. They are mere lies sometimes, just photographed to deceive the mind and the mind…takes the deception and builds on it.

"You are my photograph. 3-dimensional pet, with scraps and slashes and dices of my life. I am saddened by the fact that I can't truly cover up all of you or change the colours of your eyes but my manipulation is still not entirely too limited. You contain more truth than any photograph I've ever seen, the tattoos of a photograph printed onto your skin - invisible ink that only I can see. This ink I thrive on, pet. I thrive on your ink. Your blood. It stirs me. Moves me. Creates this illusion of truth in the nearby future. We're all sick on the inside - we just don't want to admit it."

Jeff did not say anything but simply nodded towards Mark.

"You have a piece of Adam in you right now. That fleshy mark…of his victim…his victim being his sister…that piece of stitched up flesh holds a story and that story holds truth. Adam had killed her in honour killing and relinquished his honour once more. His family is made of 'psychotic' people as they call people like Adam and I these days - but must I remind you… she was out of blood, caring, sweet, full of love…it sickens me that Adam let such filth run in his family for so long."

Mark moved towards Jeff and grabbed onto his cheek, forcing him to look up. "I have not forgotten yesterday, pet. I truly have not."

_"Teach me, pet." Mark blinked. "The way he fucking kissed you…the way Matthew kissed you…the envy busted right out of me, how your eyes burned with some sort of joy and love…how it made me want him dead…" Mark shook at the feeling, gripping tightly onto Jeff's body._

_"Teach me, pet, teach me or you fucking die."_

"You are somehow teaching me already. Love is a fickle emotion. It changes. It doesn't exist long enough for one to call it love." Mark smirked. "What's your brother doing right now? Other than living on with tequila, not even knowing that you barely exist? Your dead Mother and your hectic Father? Love is a fickle emotion. It exists only for a limited time period then it withers away because of mistrust and untold memories. Can you love, pet?"

Jeff shook his head.

"As I see it as well. Come forth, pet. I want to show you what those filthy people do to cleanse themselves…" Mark moved towards his bathroom, which was already filled with searing hot water. Jeff moved towards it and on Mark's command, discarded his white dress and dove into the water. The scorching water had burned the skin in a matter of minutes and Jeff found himself staring back up at Mark. "These people - they cleanse their sins this way…baptism I think it's called. It's sickening."

Mark failed to mention that they didn't jump in a pool of fire and that they weren't as harmed as Jeff would be. He needed to send Jeff a negative message about the outside world, not a positive one and Jeff knew that there was some lies between Mark's lines but he did not say it. He cannot deny the truthfulness of his Master's words - besides, what did he know? He was a pet. He was a _pet_.

"Speak, pet."

"Master," Jeff started, his nine year old enthusiasm was broken into nothing, left with just a very soft voice and childish terms.

"Yes, pet." Mark nodded, leaning down to capture his lips into a quick, chaste kiss. Nodding at Jeff's reaction, he told Jeff to finally get out of the water. Jeff slowly moved out of the water, knowing that Mark enjoyed any sense of prolonging pain in one's body. Jeff leaned down and wore his cold, wet white dress, which was drenched because of the water trapped around the surface of the bathroom. Mark stared at Jeff's smile, weak but still effective enough. _Pet must be tired._

"What are you, pet?"

"A memory of Master. A photograsph."

"Mark!" a voice bellowed from outside. Mark had turned to look at the visitor and saw Matt walking in, with a disgruntled look on his face. His hair was dishevelled and curly, back into a ponytail and he was in a black sweater and dark jeans, with a bulky denim jacket on top.

"Pet." Mark had started, looking over at Jeff. "I called Matt over here and he did not know why. He's still angered about yesterday and pet, you will spend two weeks with him. I may decide to keep you with Matt for a longer period of time. I will not communicate with you in anyway but remember, I know what I am doing and Matt thinks that he can reform you into a better person."

Mark burst into laughter at that last bit, causing Matt to flinch. "He will see this as quite untrue as I know, pet. You've been living under my ways for quite too long for Matt to understand the effects of it all in your mind. And Matt, you should not force him to adapt to your traditions. My pet wasn't made to serve you. He will not answer to you. He will answer to me and what I've told him. He will protest again you. I know this very well. He is my pet and I've lived with him for a course of ten years. I know that you will simply hurt my pet in ways you do not fathom now but will understand later."

"…yeah. He'll prefer dicing himself up to proper clothes, a nice, warm meal and a wash!"

"You will see, Matt and you will be saddened at your results. He will prefer 'dicing up himself' as you clearly stated to doing any of those. He's not fit for your way of life, Matthew. He's fit for mine and he was raised up believing in mine. He will feel lost without me I assure you. You're simply going to break him."

Mark had moved away from the bathroom and Jeff followed him on the heel, causing Matt to move towards Mark's main bedroom. Mark had pulled out a box and handed it towards Jeff, whom took it graciously despite its heaviness. "Farewell, pet."

"Bye, Master." Jeff nodded.

"Take him, Matthew. See him break. And do not come back to me unless you have a proper apology."

"Yeah yeah."

"Matt!" Gilbert announced when his son had walked into the kitchen.

He'd known Matt was bringing back a victim. He didn't specify what but said that there was some sort of violence involved and that he was helping a nineteen year old adjust and open up by bringing him over to spend some time for two weeks, possibly longer but at the sight of Jeff, Gilbert was dumbfounded. With Jeff's stitched skin, tugging smile and filthiness, he'd managed to make Gilbert realise the seriousness of the situation.

"Er…"

Matt decided to break the ice, knowing his Father was trying to search for words that wouldn't make Jeff feel too odd. "It's breakfast time, Jeff. I'll make you some pancakes. How does that sound? Too much? Too little? …er…?"

Jeff looked at him perplexed.

"What do you eat?"

"I eats fish…jam…strawberries…" he did not add he was allergic to any of those foods and Mark had made him eat them. It seemed perfectly normal he only ate food he was allergic to. Matt sighed in relief, as if he was expecting something too abnormal.

"So he never made you eat bugs or shit like that?"

Jeff laughed as if Matt was asking him a trick question. "Of courses Mark make me eats bugs! And twapeworms too!"

He would not forgot the senseless amount of sessions he spent trying to mash the bugs into a mixture of shells and green blood in order to eat something. Mark giving him strawberries contaminated as Jeff ate them piece by piece to satisfy Mark's desire. He felt nostalgic already, remembering that flash of happiness in Mark's eyes as Jeff's flesh went from cold to feverish and seizures. Mark remembered having Adam and Mark beside him as Adam tore open his stomach and produced the 10 metre tapeworm out of his stomach. Mark continued to do that, sometimes leaving it enough to potentially damage Jeff's organs but they always had an organ supply so Jeff never pondered on death. Jeff didn't really care. If it pleased Mark, it was good enough. If Mark had asked Jeff to kill himself, he'd stop breathing that second but knowing Mark, Jeff would have to stage a painful, dramatic death and he didn't mind that. Mark's sick twisted obsession with him caused Jeff to feel attached to him.

Matt had produced him a plate full of strawberries, a dip of jam and heated some fish for him in moments' time. Jeff stared at the food and ate it slowly, knowing that Mark liked to watch him eat. Almost as if he was waiting for the pain to start any time soon. Double-dibbing the strawberries in jam and eating pieces of fish afterwards. By the time that Matt had collected his plate, it was clean. "Hungry, huh?"

Jeff did not dwell on hunger. He simply stared at him perplexed. He did not dwell on hunger at all. It was just not in him to wait for the next meal because that could range from an hour from then to days, according to Mark's mood. Usually, he did feed Jeff. It usually was a simple memory to remind Jeff of how they met nine years ago, Jeff in his polka-dotted socks, which he still had into his pockets. Mark told him to "use it when extremely necessary" and knowing Mark, he meant it. Jeff had the tiny socks folded and into his pockets for now.

Matt smiled at him, still trying to think of a way to break the ice. "Have you been to school, Jeff?"

Jeff shook his head.

"So he's kept you locked up into that place for 10 years?"

Jeff nodded his head.

"The bastard."

"Mark is my Master." Jeff repeated, trying to show Matt the significance of Mark to Jeff and to be polite about the fact that Matt was offending him.

"You are not a pet, Jeff. You are a human being."

Jeff shook his head. Matt did not respond. He did not to force Jeff to think the way he thought - that was the best thing about staying here. Matt couldn't force him to do anything because it would be like acting in Mark in some way. Gilbert simply stared at Jeff's arm, where Adam's sister's flesh mark was. "Do you…sew?"

Jeff nodded.

"Did you…?"

Jeff nodded once more. "A photograsph. A memory." He repeated what he'd told Mark the time ago. The pang of nostalgia was harder this time. Two more weeks and he'd be with Mark again. Just two more weeks.

"You look tired, Jeff. Do you want to wash up and sleep?"

"…wash up?"

Matt nodded, grabbing onto Jeff's arm and took him up towards the bathroom in the guest room. He'd opened up the water and made sure it was cool before looking at Jeff whom simply shook his head. _"As I see it as well. Come forth, pet. I want to show you what those filthy people do to cleanse themselves…" _He cannot cleanse himself of Mark. He cannot. He will not.

"Jeff-"

Jeff shook his head and backed away. He hated Matt. He wanted to get out of here. "No, you take it away…you take it away…you take it away…" he stammered, with the smile still plastered upon his face as he stepped back. He cannot let Matt take the few shreds of Mark he had left. He depended on Mark, he saw comfort in Mark…Matt just couldn't.

Matt nodded. "Fair enough." He said, before shutting down the water. "I don't want to force you. You know this. I don't want to be like Mark in any way."

The sound of his name just made Jeff feel worse. He missed his cell. He missed Mark looking at him and telling him those things in his voice, the way he said certain words to emphasize the importance…he missed the look into Mark's eyes as his eyes swept over Jeff's body. He missed Mark so badly it was taking its toll and it had only been two hours since he left Mark. Two more weeks of endless suffering - it seemed impossible for Jeff to do.

Jeff found himself going to bed on white sheets. He suddenly felt the comfort and wanted to get away. He wasn't used to comfort. He wasn't used to this affection. It was a simple trap to lure him. Get him to love but love was fickle. Love didn't last. Love was made to fade. Comfort was made to fade. Affection was made to fade. Jeff will not give up. The minute that Matt had left, Jeff moved towards the corner of the room, grabbing a mirror and smashing it into pieces. He needed a rough surface. He needed home. He didn't need all these colours and all these people. He just wanted Mark. Jeff lay on the broke glass fragments, picking one up and turning them around, seldom running it down his flesh to create little cuts but all in all, he'd slept on them.

Matt would be displeased but that didn't matter. Matt was not his Master. Mark was. Matt was trying to push him away. Matt hated him for some reason.

He only woke up to a shriek.

"Jeff…on…what…your face-!" Matt exclaimed.

Jeff stared at the opposite mirror in which half of his face was swollen due to the different food he'd been allergic to he'd eaten. Matt had shrieked at that and the fact that he had slept on glass. Jeff stood up and stared at him as Matt tore him apart from the room.

"We're taking you to a hospital!"

"…_hospitals are evil things, Jeffery… they cleanse you like water does…only worse…they'll try and fix you. They'll promise you help but they're just luring you…they'll all luring you…"_

Jeff shook his head. "No hospital for me!"

"Jeff, you're bleeding. Half of your face is…!"

Matt was cut by Jeff, whom shook his head and pushed him off, running off. He had to find something. He had to find something. Instantly, he found a cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. He found himself getting into it and shutting the door with a pipe, between two other metallic pipes. He sighed when he felt Matt's hesitation to open it. "How long can you stay there?"

Jeff didn't respond.

"You'll die in two weeks' time. Open the door!"

"Leaves me alone!" Jeff screeched finally. "I want Mark. I want Mark. I want my Mark!"

"…he's no good for you, Jeff."

Jeff shook his head. "I want my Mark…" he finally repeated, before drifting off to sleep again due to the tiredness that consumed him. Matt had stopped trying to get him out by that time, seeing it as frustrating and hopeless. Jeff laid sleeping in the cupboard, uncomfortable but it was home. It was salvation.

**OMG.**

**I EXIST. O_0**

**I do. I do. I really do but lovely Shaddin has been uploading stuff for me because doesn't work on my computer anymore…so…**

**X Sam.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jeff refused to get out of the cupboard for the rest of the day. It was only when he heard the kitchen lights shut that he thought of leaving the cupboard. The drip, drop of the water emerging from the pipes were the only thing to break the ear-shattering silence that was formed. The darkness spilled from the cupboard and slowly, Jeff had opened the door. The place was deserted. Matt was in fact going to bed and so was Gilbert. He made no sound as he looked back at the cupboard and then at the distance from him to the living room. He didn't know what to do. He was always ordered to do things.

He wanted to see what was in the box. He remembered he kept it up in the guest room and almost soundlessly, Jeff moved. Every tiny sound seemed to make an echo, the sound of his breaths, the sounds of the clock ticking, closer and closer to 1 AM. His stomach growling in a need for food. He slowly moved from the stairs to the room, trying not to get caught in any way. He stopped trudging when he finally reached the room.

He was suddenly staring at the door.

White painted over wood. He'd never seen a painted door before or if he had, he'd forgotten. The white of the door was hiding the imperfection behind him. The body-based society that Mark had instructed him about. He was presented in blood and filth, that was why Gilbert was so shocked, why Matt couldn't accept the fact that this was the way Jeff lived and nothing was going to change that. He slowly opened the door as to not make a sound and stepping inside of the room, the overwhelming scent of perfume expertly made its way to Jeff's nose.

He continued to move towards the white round box in the middle of the blue bed. He needed it. He needed to get its contents spilled out but at the same time the hint of fear was burning through him. The mirror only bore the image of a plastic doll with a plastic smile that Jeff knew all too well was himself. They didn't know that he got used to Mark, that he knew Mark and that he wanted Mark more than anything else in the world. He can't be fixed. That was just out of the question. He wasn't made to be one of them.

Jeff grabbed onto the white round box but he didn't open it just yet. He knew that whenever he was given something, he turned around towards the bathroom and looked around for anything he could stir in. He was learned to find substitutes for things. He grabbed onto a toothbrush and trudged back, looking around the room itself and drawers until he'd produced another box; a thrown away holiday box that used to once be filled with presents probably. Greed. People were greedy. People were selfish. People didn't think that one present was enough sometimes. That wasn't the case for Jeff. He opened the box and threw away its transparent contents before he'd produced the toothbrush. He'd gotten the scalpel out of his pocket, he'd always carried around his sewing instruments and sharp ones - Mark had gotten him into a habit of it since he'd always need them. With a deep but not too deep line, Jeff drew a cut against his arm.

The blood spilled into the box. He looked at the height of the box. It was about 14 centimetres. He needed blood. He needed blood to fill it all up. With a determined slash, he deepened the cut and slashed another cut against his arm. The blood flow was generous but it would take some time before the entire box was full. This would be so much easier if he could find an animal…a rabbit….a cat…anything. He had to wait too long if it was his own arm and his own body and he couldn't faint during the procedure. That was impossible. Waiting for it to fill was too long. He looked at the clock every few moments - his impatience was because of his fear of getting caught. He couldn't get caught and he couldn't tear away from his incantation. He finally chopped off the box with an expert hand. He didn't mind bleeding….bleeding…

"_It takes effort to bleed pretty, pet."_

Jeff's eyes trailed along the cuts, the way they were expertly cut, the way that he was bleeding…with the blood gushing out with no hesitation…slightly under prettiness. He'd seen prettier types of cuts and prettier bleeding. He stared down at the box now that he'd cut it. He slashed his arm even more, in an effort to cause more blood gushing and in that attempt, the box was full. He couldn't let Matt know he was here though. The box was full but not to the rim. That was how Mark taught him. A centimetre away from the rim. Always. Jeff stared back at his hand. He can't let Matt now he'd gotten out of the cupboard. He looked down at his dress and tore a piece of cloth, but it was hard not to make a sound. He paused afterward but it seemed nobody heard him. In a fluid motion, he wrapped the cloth around the first half of his arms, where they cuts resided. Jeff stared down at the box now. Stirring it with the toothbrush and whispering his Latin incantation.

"_Iam amore virginali totus ardeo. Amor volat unique, captus est libidine…" _(1)

Jeff's voice turned even lower and his voice turned inaudible to even himself as he murmured the next few words of silent vigilance. His eyes around, hoping that Matt didn't disturb his bubble of peace and tranquillity in the darkness. The evilness of love, taking form of this lovely girl that lured him into a trap, disarmed his strengths and found his weaknesses and giving that feeling of warmth…disgust rolled into Jeff's stomach. Love. Fickle. Weakened the mind. Weakened the heart. Let everything go down and love…its arms penetrating through the deepest desires, the deepest truths, something behind flesh and sex. Evilness.

Jeff stared down at the bloody pool in front of him. Pulling off the toothbrush and licking it with his tongue, the taste of the metallic cooper entered his throat in seconds. Jeff loved himself, did he not? This was loving. If he could not love the thing that made him, the blood that created his mass and shattered innocence, then how could he proceed to love? He didn't understand the world's point of view of love, without the sharp knife that dedicated its life to cutting and scraping, without the spill of blood and fluid during sex…every person was just blood, thoughts and a mass of meat. They ate meat themselves, eating and cutting through animals but they call it barbaric when one ate human meat. Is it not the same lovely texture? Except raw? Could be cooked to look like the meat of the animal they enjoy so greatly.

The world that thought that what Mark would do was "abuse" and "rape" and that Jeff was a "victim" and would be "begging to get out". Jeff was fine where he was. He'd grown up to Mark's views. He knew what to think. Love didn't exist. Love is a fickle emotion that dispatched the heart from its body and the mind from the body, it made one weak and then left him depressed. What was so lovely about "love?" He remembered the times that Adam would laugh in cruelty at the thought of it. He told Jeff that he'd have some experience with outside humans as well. Walking with them, in their schoolyards, he talked of education and grades - education that people didn't truly need to fathom on with love and grades were marks on paper that determined life itself.

Jeff snorted at it. It seemed all too ridiculous. When they talked of people's reaction to suicidal tendencies, disorders and diseases, Jeff only laughed harder. If everyone cared about a disability in a person, then everyone would care about everyone. It was just stupidity to care about himself. He had only one person to care for and that was Mark. He was Mark's pet, his memory, his photograph - and that was his purpose. He didn't need grades or education or…love…to destroy his purpose in life. He didn't need luxurious food, as much as he'd still remembered the vision of the cake and candy store with its delightfulness years later and his tendency of collecting things in socks, he felt foolish for wanting the candy. He didn't need it. All he needed was to obey and obey he would.

Jeff put down the toothbrush into his bowl once more, closing his eyes and allowing the message of the destruction of love sink in as he thanked, thanked with all his might that he was given the round white box. He talked of its beauty and superiority, given to him by his Master of all people. And pulling the toothbrush, he sucked the blood again. To Jeff, it was like sucking in the words, so that the message was straight into his body somehow. Every word condensed in every lick he'd taken, the thickness of the blood that ran through him…he stirred into the blood, his fingers feeling his pure essence.

Before he stood up, grabbing onto the box, and tried to be as soundless as possible going to the backyard. Jeff laid onto his knees, holding the box of blood to the great moonlight.

"Of belonging, my Dark Lord."

Drenching his body and coating it with his liquid blood, his entire body felt as if he was feeling the need of the words pound against him. The honest reality of the situation he was in. Then nostalgia burning with every drip, drop of blood down against the grass and soil beneath him. Jeff's hands onto his knees, nothing but the smell burning and he was suffocating in the smell. In the pure essence of him. He stayed there for around only twenty-six minutes, knowing that he had to go back.

The cold night thanked him with a "goodnight" by a rush of freezing wind and he moved towards the room again, now burning in his words and promises, his blood bond to Mark attached with the various fleshes, the photographs and memories. He took the white box into his hands. Still doubting that Mark had really given him it. It didn't matter if it had nothing in it when it was open - he'd still be grateful for the fact but due to heaviness, he knew there was something there. He moved downstairs again and back into the kitchen. The blood had dried so he had not been dripping blood on the stairway. He laid the box down onto the table and slowly opened it, closing his eyes as he awaited what he'd see.

What he'd seen was beyond what he thought would be there. He drew the first object out of the box, which was a mere photograph of Mark. It didn't seem like much but to Jeff, that was treasure. A photograph. A photograph… photographs were made of lies but there was no lie. He'd known Mark all his life and there was only truth in that picture. Jeff looked at the box. A silver camera glinting. A photo-album. A bunch of cards and envelopes and a pen. And his doll…his doll…his dead corpse of a doll and the first knife he'd ever had. The doll's dresses and the hairbrush nested in the place. Everything seemed to remind him of home, everything seemed to make him drift farther away from the reality that he was stuck into Mark's home.

The only thing that was slightly unfamiliar to him was the seven sheets of glass that was underneath all of this. All of them of the same thickness, around a thickness of 2 mm, a width of 30 cm and a height of 28 cm. Jeff blinked. So much glass…but why? He wanted to figure out why Mark had given him so much glass but he was still afraid of holding such a fragile object in his hands. If it fell, Matt and Gilbert were sure to wake up.

He put the cover back and held the box into his hand, his happiness burning into a great deal of love and affection. He closed his eyes and smiled warmly. He couldn't be any happier to be honest. The smile on his face was finally genuine, not fixated upon by plastic stitches and invisible staples. Mark gave him something. That seemed like the greatest gift in the world…but slowly, the genuine nature of the smile faded. The nostalgia burned and he wanted Mark again. He wanted to be hit, slapped, raped - everything. He just wanted to see Mark's face. That face…Jeff shut his eyes tightly before looking back down at the floor.

He left the room silently and went back into the kitchen. He looked around the drawers soundlessly until he found the instrument he was looking for. Grabbing the flashlight, he made his way down towards the cupboard and shut it tightly, locking it with various pipes that he had been lying on and holding the box into his hand. The claustrophobia was burning but that didn't matter anymore. Jeff opened his box and took it the glass, careful not to make a sound and slowly grabbed out a scalpel. He had glass and he had a sharp edge and he saw Adam sculpt a hundred times with it. This was the only thought that was in his mind as he finally allowed metal to scrape against glass…

It was not long before light immersed from the kitchen. "Jeff, are you still in there?" Matt's voice bellowed. "I can get to you. Just wait."

His voice was soft as he spoke out the next few words. "Want to play a game?"

Jeff stopped sculpting the image a moment. The image that his subconscious was doing on its own; the first thing that reminded him of Mark was their encounter. He cut out 4 centimetre from a sheet of glass expertly and was now trying to precisely turn that 3 centimetre glass into a cake. He remembered how it looked like. 3 layers, with a tiny ribbon in the centre…and a candle on top… the first thing that had caught his eyes. He could remember the white and pink colours and the red ribbon that made his stomach growl so violently. Now, this was memory and he was representing it; in all its truthfulness.

"Jeff, do you want to play a game?"

Jeff was annoyed at that moment but responded. "What's a gwames?" Jeff asked, his voice soft. He didn't talk loudly in front of Mark and its taken a toll on his level of voice - unless he was ordered to, he would speak politely and with respect to Mark.

"It's like…it's something you do to curb boredom. It's fun. Do you know what fun is, Jeff?"

"Adam sways killing his swisters was fun…" Jeff could remember Adam saying the lucid details of killing his sisters. The twins had a triplet, which was Adam, and which explained the long blonde hair and slightly feminine nature when he stalked, almost like a cat. He could almost imagine Adam's beautiful blonde tail swishing soundlessly in the wind whenever he'd see Adam sneaking up behind his prey, with a keen look of ocean-blue into his eyes, and a graceful movement. Jeff was glad that the prettiest parts of his twin sisters that he'd also gotten; the hair and the delicate nature that perceived one's mind. It made Adam easily trustable and likeable so he could fit in with the normal world.

The twins were bubbly and sweet and sickening. Jeff had met them before and they were all so clean and cleansed in water…and full of perfection and flawlessness and make up and had hair that was just beautifully straightened into its waterfall. It made Jeff sick to just think of it. The way that that was defined as "beautiful". Growing up, anything "Beautiful" was truthful, filled with memory and wounds of mistakes that were committed. Adam barely made mistakes, he barely had cuts - he had this gentle feline nature that was just utterly perfect but in a truthful way. Filth trapped against the moisture of his skin and the soft eyes of him just made him perfect in Mark's point of view. The long blonde hair was never put in a ponytail, nor was Jeff's. To Mark, Jeff and Adam were beautiful - because they were full of truth, every type of pain was shown on their skin. Jeff couldn't accept pain so easily before but now he'd grown to know, that pain was made for one to bare it. That it was a mixture of physical and emotional for it to be called pain.

Adam…oh, Adam had grown into a family of psychopaths. He'd instantly grown up that way. He rarely made mistakes. He rarely got cut by the knife, and he was so good in performing the rituals that Jeff was slightly envious but envy was good. Envy was just another thing to tape to his skin, the emerald jewel that was dispatched onto his skin by burning the patch of skin and then shoving and melting the flesh around it to finally occupy the metal and emerald. It was the most expensive thing in Jeff. It was something of Adam's as well. The object of envy he'd had. Mark knew instantly.

"No, Jeff! I mean a real game…"

"You're different. You can't take me…you can't twake me…you can't twake me!" Jeff exclaimed, his voice hoarse and cold, but also desperate and tired.

"Fine. Can I ask you any question and you replay honestly and you can ask me one in return and I swear on my Mother's grave that I'll reply honestly?"

Jeff pondered it a moment but he shrugged. He was always truthful but this gave him an opportunity to probe through Matt's mind. But Matt hadn't known that when he answered. He expected Jeff to be laced with lies. "Yes. Fwine." Jeff responded at last.

"Do you honestly like Mark?"

"Ywes! _Je aime Mark_!" Jeff retorted angrily. He remembered Mark saying that _aime_ could mean both like and love but in this case, it was definitely like. He couldn't see himself loving Mark. It was just insane. Love. Was. Fickle. It didn't last long. But what he had for Mark lasted. The burning obsession - it lasted, for hours and days and years that passed on - Jeff clung. That wasn't love. That was just like. Jeff's turn to ask a question. "Why does Matt cares so much about Pet Jeff?"

"…first of all, you're not a pet," Matt retorted darkly. "And secondly, Jeff, you're…you remind me of something quite close to me. My dead baby brother. He's so…so…well, for one he has the same name. Over the years, I've just bonded with anyone named Jeff because of that and the eyes…they eyes are the same, soft little green ones. It's like I'm staring into his eyes again and seeing you get tortured…tortures me. I can't…I just can't…"

Jeff stared at him silently. Seeing Jeff get tortured hurt Matt only because he reminded him of his brother? Jeff wanted to retort a snide back at him before remembering why he was here in the first place. His dead brother and Father and his dead Mother. Mark told him. That his disobedience caused their deaths and the thoughts maniacally etched in the back of his head, like a silent horror movie replaying as Matt went silent as well.

"…you aren't calling me pathetic. Mark would've. Adam would've. What? Did you have something going on with your family, too?" Matt asked, his voice eager and trying to find some sort of information he can work with.

"I thwink Matt is talking abwout Jeff's dead family…?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. What did you have?"

"Mwommy and Dwaddy and a bwother and…a fwiend. A very, very silent fwiend." He said, closing his eyes tightly, almost as if he had been slapping at the memory evoking his mind but he said nothing for a sort period of time.

Matt didn't say anything for a while either but Jeff could almost feel Mark pressing up against the cupboard and could hear his soft breathing as Jeff finally found the question he'd like to ask. "What's the wowst thwing Matt's done?"

"…worst? I've let my brother get hurt. That's for one and…" Matt blinked again. His voice softly afterward. "I was slightly abusive in a relationship once. He was kinda hard to break but… I wanted to break him. I didn't know why really…he was just so strong…and he looked so fragile…I just wanted to drop him and watch that fragility take effect somehow…and you? What's the worst thing you've done?"

Jeff laughed. "Jeff's done too much bad…I can't ewen remember a time where Jeff has done gwood!"

Matt thought about that, dwelled on it for a few moments before Jeff sighed. "How many rewationshwips has Matt beens iwn?"

"In about three or four. They ended horribly. There was a blonde that kept on coming back and forth. He was the one I abused really…" Matt blinked again, his eyes staring down at the floor. "He was just so…I didn't like him but I wanted him. I wanted to fuck him but I was disgusted at the thought of him. It was horrible being with him but it was horrible being without him…it's a blurring contrasting line of black and white. I tried choking him once…he just stared at me with those eyes that are slightly reckless and careless but he doesn't care about me choking him. He doesn't care about me kicking him so hard that his legs looked like they were going to break under pressure.

"Once I even broke his legs, just to see if he'd care, but he didn't. It was like…he was immune to pain and when I saw how Mark was torturing you, it flickered back to that unhealthy relationship…I wanted to kiss you, yet I was disgusted at the thought…I wanted you but I didn't…I liked you but I hated you as well…it's a whirlwind of thoughts that I can't control to be honest. He just seems so…beautiful…but I liked him better broken or…even dead. I don't know why…"

Jeff's smile widened at the thought of Matt's emotions spinning out of control in such a way. Jeff's eyes stared back at the piece of glass in front of him, returning to the crafting of the piece of thick glass and Matt sighed. "Do you want to eat?" he finally asked.

"Oui." Jeff resisted the urge to yawn from the tiredness of yesterday but he did not go to bed unless his Master went to bed and knowing Mark, he went to sleep around 3 AM and waking 6 to 8 AM, he did this to torture Jeff. Mark was an insomniac whilst Jeff had hypersomnia. He slept too long and the way he had to adjust his biological clock to fit Mark's schedule was horrid but as always, he'd managed in the end.

"I'll go make you some food."

"Non." Jeff said calmly, slumping down and cutting his hand with the sharp point of the knife, a habit of his. He hated seeing perfect skin on his hand and he knew Adam appreciated every cut on his body due to having to look at his sisters' perfections 24/7.

"What do you mean no? You haven't eaten and you just said you want to eat…" Matt shook his head. "You want to eat but you can't eat, is that what you're saying?"

"Oui," Jeff repeated, blinking softly.

Matt sighed. "How about we make a deal? A new game…Dad and I will go through a week of your horrible rituals but then you'd have to listen to us for the remainder of the next, how is that?"

Jeff thought about that slightly before letting out the words, "and then…I cans go bwack to Mark…?" he whispered softly.

"Yes."

"Owaky."

* * *

_(1) "Now love from a maiden makes us whole. Love flies in from all the sides, grabbing us with its violent desire."_

**Note: GAWD. I am updating from school. This makes me sad. D;**

**Anyway, this chapter...sucks. But shut up. I'm trying my hardest to update and...yup yup. Some stuff is gonna happen. ^_^ I love Shaddin for updating for me when I could not.**

**X Sam.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

Matt arose that morning with a feeling of pure dread crawling into his stomach. He remembered the deal that he'd made with Jeff and he knew his Father would probably kill him when he heard about it… _"How about we make a deal? A new game…Dad and I will go through a week of your horrible rituals but then you'd have to listen to us for the remainder of the next, how is that?" _how much of a pure idiot was he? A pang of fear followed it, images of Jeff sewing his body up 'for fun' on 'Mark's orders'. Matt slowly woke up to seeing Jeff sitting there, and his eyes suddenly looked at every stitch, wound and injury that adorned Jeff's body as he wrapped an elastic band around his hair.

"…you actually do that?"

He'd never really seen Jeff do anything to his body, bathe it, wash it and nothing to his hair at all - not even flip it back so it wouldn't be as annoying as usual. "Hmm?" Jeff realised that he was talking about him tying his hair and nodded, "it are dependable but Mark usually lwikes my hair twied when start something nwew."

Matt's eyes finally went to his ears where he realised that two large holes were in them, but no earrings. Matt sighed and thought that that probably came with a long story that involved Mark doing it 'for fun' and him telling him how earrings were evil and cruel. Matt leaned down towards Jeff whom grabbed onto his wrist and stared at it, seeing something disgusting in it almost.

"What?" Matt asked.

"It's clean. It's pewrfect. It's…_genewral_." Jeff said, eyeing the flesh as he pulled out his needle and thread. Matt's stomach dropped at the sight of it, as Jeff pushed a needle into the flesh. Matt could see images of flesh breaking by a needle and the pain seemed simple, but effective in its own way. It was the sight of the actual needle in flesh that made the pain mentally worse into his mind as Jeff pulled the needle in and out, a layer of skin seemed to strip in Matt's mind along with a ton of blood but in reality, it just looked like his body was made of fabric and stitches.

"You do this…for fun?" Matt repeated, staring at him.

"Mmmhmm!" Jeff exclaimed, grinning. "Does Matty have awny awllergies?"

"Yes," Matt nodded his head towards Jeff, not even wondering why he was asking this. His mind simply fixated on the fact that his skin was being 'broken' and dispatched by the likes of Jeff's needle because it was 'fun' and 'on Mark's orders'. Matt sighed softly, watching Jeff's relaxed face whilst he did this, as if it wasn't something that he wouldn't normally do. He seemed to bask in the comfort of the needle hitting against flesh but at the same time, in Jeff's eyes, Matt can spot a slice of longing.

"What awre thwey?" Jeff asked.

With Matt's eyes still peeled against the flesh, it seemed to take forever for Jeff to destroy one part of his skin. He seemed to take his time only because in some sort of way, he enjoyed it more than Matt could ever enjoy the fact that his skin was being eaten by the needle. "Er…milk, eggs, soy, wheat…"

Jeff nodded to him, as if he finally realised that it was true. Matt suddenly remembered the deal involved him and his Father and only remembered this when he heard Gilbert's footsteps. The man walked through the door and stared down at Matt's pained expression. "Almost dwone!" Jeff said and Matt stared down at the stitches. Now that he was actually waiting for it to be over, it seemed to feel like it was taking much longer than normally.

"And Jeff…" Gilbert stared down at him with a slightly concerned expression. "You do this for fun?"

Jeff made a motion with his hand. "Comme ci, comme ca."

"What?" Matt asked, staring at Jeff's face.

"Swort…of…I suppose." Jeff shrugged. "Swometimes I does it for funs. Swometimes Mark tell me toes to do it! I doesn't mind either way…"

"There are things worse than this?" Matt asked, hoping and pleading with horror-struck brown eyes and when Jeff let out a howl of laughter, mangled with a bit of insanity into his eyes, Matt knew that his hopes were crushed into a single second. "…Jeff…are you serious? There's worse than this!"

Jeff simply nodded his head before biting the thread and slowly tying a strong knot around Matt's flesh. "Mark don't lwike it when I stwitch around when I doesn't have a wound so I must hurts myself bwefore most times but I doesn't want to start off lwike that! You cannot handles it!"

Matt stared at him, not offended the least. He couldn't handle it. Jeff's seen the way they live…to Jeff, their way of living seemed immoral and lazy, and too luxury-filled, even if they were a middle-class family with a Father that worked too much and there were times that he'd work with his Father if the workload was too much. Matt snickered at the thought of Jeff meeting a high-class family, wondering what he'd do to 'fix' them into his own sick little way…

Leading them both downwards with a hushed aggravated 'why did you make that deal, Matthew?' caused Matt to spin in circles on the inside. He felt faint already just thinking of the things that Jeff might want them to do if that was just for fun—fluidity in its own way. Jeff told Gilbert to follow him into the kitchen to help in preparation of breakfast. Matt sat alone, wondering…he remembered talking to Jeff about his abused lover…but everything seemed like a blur now to how he got here. He started thinking about thoughts of even surviving this week… _'That's silly, Matt. You know that he's alive and he's had this same damned lifestyle for what…years now?'_

Gilbert returned after a minute, staring at Matt before asking. "Matthew, I—"

"I know. I fucked us up all over again. I screwed us over. I'm damn scared and I don't know how I'd feel if I was in your position! Hell, you didn't even agree to this…"Matt sighed at his frustrations, watching Gilbert sit down beside him with a simple smile on his face and Matt just wished that he wouldn't smile, so that he wouldn't feel any guiltier than he already was.

"I can't say it's fine…but…" Gilbert stared back at the kitchen, as if seeing Jeff over an invisible wall, "he does remind you of…"

"He's even got the same name," Matt laughed softly. "It's just…I can't bear it. I'm a coward. I'm a stupid, idiotic bastard but I can't handle the thought of letting him go through my fingers like our Jeffery did…it's just… she died a week after that. It's just so unfair…I just…I'm—Jeff…it's my fault. It's _my_ fault. I kept making fun of his habit of putting stuff into socks and I keep on mocking him about the way he does his hair, with that spike and wasting my gel…I don't know. He just seemed more afraid. I don't know why. He's afraid of _me_. He ran off because of _me_. I know it. Don't try and tell me that it's ludicrous, it's damn well true!"

The atmosphere wasn't broken by Gilbert's words, but by Jeff's uncontrollable fit of giggles. "Matty, why awre you so…sewrious? Sewrious is too much! You don't needs it, Matty! You doesn't! Sewrious is the face you gets when something bad happens…what happens, Matty?"

Matt just stared at him, before replying, "so is that what you think is 'serious', Jeff? Something that only happens when you've done something bad? Well, I have done something bad…done something horrible…" Matt mumbled softly.

"Ish Matty talking about abewsing his old boyfwiend?"

"Boyfriend? Abuse?" Gilbert's voice was sharp and alerting and almost instantly had Matt regretted telling Jeff anything as a feeling of pain as condensed as stone made its way towards his stomach and he found himself feeling the urge to vomit without the conversation even going deeper than ever. He could almost feel the invisible fist hitting against his skin, almost making him flinch with the visual of its harshness. "Matthew Moore Hardy…is any of this true?"

Matt swallowed. "…yes…"

"Anyways!" Jeff exclaimed, "I gets food for Matty!"

Matt, who already looked like he'd lost his appetite due to the tension around the room and staring at the threads around his arm, sat down onto a chair as Jeff produced a plate. Matt's eyes widened at the sight of the place. A glass of milk, two eggs, bread, and soy chips. Matt stared back at Jeff. He knew very well that Matt was severely allergic to all of this. He sighed, rolled up his sleeves and started biting into the bread, trying to focus on eating. Jeff left Matt onto his own to recollect his thoughts. Matt remembered the days that they wouldn't even have nor wheat or dairy products in the house due to the severity of his reaction to them. At younger ages, his brother used to get screamed at for eating bread around Matt's room and Gilbert and Ruby would have to make sure the place was cleaned properly before Matt was allowed to sleep there. He wasn't allowed to eat in restaurants, in other peoples' houses or in school or be anywhere near anyone who was eating these products at a young age. After hitting 15, he was allowed to eat in other places rather than home if he knew exactly what was in a product and read the label at least twice from what he remembered.

And wheat and dairy products were found around the house once again after that but Gilbert kept everything in a high-shelf, with a red label taped towards it. Matt wasn't even allowed near that section of the kitchen. He was supposed to be sitting beside the table that Gilbert bought for him, with his own seat and they had to make sure that it was cleaned every day, and checked by a professional every two weeks. As for the fact that milk is supposed to be in a fridge, the only carton of milk existed in Gilbert's room.

At this, he remembered that because of his severe milk allergy just smelling milk caused him to get extremely dizzy and feel horrible for days. Matt's fingers reached towards his pants and with a trembling hand, he'd gotten out his epinephrine autoinjector, and pushed the needle near his now reddish arm. After 10 seconds, he'd withdrawn the autoinjector from his arm but still looking quite sick and pale, he held his stomach, which killed him. He closed his eyes tightly, taking short and sharp breaths. "Hmm…Matty doesn't like his food." Jeff mumbled.

Matt couldn't speak to comeback at Jeff, groaning and pushing himself upwards, trying to breathe. Matt instantly tried to stand up, but had fallen down almost instantly. His hands reaching up towards his pocket, allowing his cell phone to fall from his pocket. Jeff just lay there, staring at him, perplexed as Matt's shaky fingers and hazy mind tried to dial any number he'd known .His breathing decreasing by minute.

"What's going on—? Matt!" Almost instantly had Gilbert grabbed Matt's arm and tried to push him up, feeling the sweaty, swollen flesh underneath.

Jeff just stood there, looking perplexed.

"You're trying to KILL him, aren't you?"

Jeff blinked, staring at him carelessly as he'd gotten Matt's epinephrine autoinjector off the floor whilst Gilbert was running with the sickly Matt wrapped tightly into his arms. Unable to comprehend why Matt's allergy was a lot more severe than his own, Jeff stared back at the bread then at his body. He munched onto a piece and waited for something to happen but nothing did. He stared back at his autoinjector and bit down his lower lip into anger. Matt must've been trying to kill himself with this…this device.

It wasn't his fault. Couldn't be. Couldn't dear old Gilbert see that Matt was suicidal? '_Oh wells'_, Jeff thought, standing up, with a malicious grin onto his face. He'd prove it. Because he was right. Mark taught him.

After all, Mark taught him right, didn't he?

Didn't he…?

Gilbert's eyes were fixated upon Matt, whom was lying onto the white hospital cot. In a few moments, there was the sound of the door creaking open and Gilbert turned around to see Jeff standing there in full view, staring at Matt, and the anger started to rise. Jeff walked inside and stared down at him before staring back at the elder Hardy.

"He almost died."

"We all awemost died buts it doesn't count." Jeff responded, his voice weak and frail and Gilbert found himself staring back at the nineteen year old, staring at his childlike innocence and Gilbert could understand why he'd agreed to Jeff – the glint that was burning into those soft green orbs were too similar to his dead baby son's eyes, even if the weak smile was still intact.

"Did you almost die, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded his head quite slowly. "Awlesmost."

"What happened?" Gilbert moved closer, inching towards the nineteen year old and sitting down onto a plastic chair beside him. Jeff did not move and remained in his position, staring back at the elder Hardy with soft eyes.

"_Don't move."_

_Mark ordered. His eyes trailing alongside Jeff's face as he licked his lower lip, watching the nine year old Jeff stare at him with some sort of fear burning into his eyes. The nine year old was trembling and in Jeff's hand was a knife he was clutching. The tip of the knife was being held by a wounded hand and Jeff watched as Mark approached him, inches away from the pale face. "How did we meet, Jeffery…?"_

"_At…at…a-a-at-…" Jeff's voice was dry and shaky, and he took a deep breath before responding. "At a b-bakery."_

"_What do bakeries sell, Jeff?"_

_Jeff didn't respond for a moment, allowing the question to sink in before he bit down his lower lip. "B-b-wread, cakes…pies…b-b-baskets, cuppy-cakes…b-b-__bickies__… pwretzels…doughnuts…and bwread, just lwots of breads…"_

"_And you're my little cuppycake, Jeff, my little fairy cake."_

_Mark circled Jeff, and pulling out a strawberry, causing Jeff to jump._

"_Don't move!" Mark repeated the order, just stronger, and more aggressively, pushing Jeff back into his position and placing the red fruit onto Jeff's head, 'now, why are you afraid of a strawberry, Jeffery?"_

"_I…I'm allwergic to it. It's not good fwor me!" Jeff exclaimed, his voice penetrated by fear. _

_Mark smirked at him, 'don't move." He repeated, circling Jeff once more, and kissing the nine year old blonde's lips softly. Jeff stared at him with a look mixed with fear and confusion as Mark pullet out a gun out of his pocket. "Now, stay still, Jeff and I won't knock your head off."_

"…_it's a strawberry. It's not big. __You're gwonna hurt me. __You're gwonna hurt me…" Jeff chanted it, like a mantra, with trembling lips and shaky hands but he tried to remain still for all that it counted, and Mark pointed the gun at him._

_The tension rose._

_The bullet shot._

_But Jeff opened his eyes and peered at what had been cut if it was not his body, and in seconds, there was a crash of glass and gold, hitting him harder than ever before. The glass cutting into his skin and his hair, the smell of metallic and copper reaching and the taste of it, burning, and Jeff realised that the chandelier had been the target, not the strawberry that was squashed now firmly, seeping into Jeff's lips. The taste of it causing Jeff's stomach to churn into unpleasantness as Mark moved towards the frightened Jeff. _

"_Look at that, my little fairy cake, topped with gold and glass…a lovely combination of colour if I do say so myself."_

_Jeff wheezed. His eyes burning with tears as his shoulders shook. "Adam…"_

"Oui?"_ the Canadian blonde moved towards Jeff, holding a purple-like chemical into his hands. He sat down and stroked Jeff's dry skin. _"Tu as belle. Tu as tres belle, mon chou…"_ (1) _

"_Adam, the boy's dying. Better give him the thing now or watch him die whilst you call him pretty."_

_Adam giggled at it, "it's like a narcotic, mon chou. Don't listen to Mark. It'll make all the pain go away and your body wants the pain. You want the pain, don't you? You'll realise you want the pain…" his voice was soft afterwards, as he'd forced the purple liquid into Jeff's lips. He pushed the chandelier off, whilst the gold and glass pieces were still digging into his flesh but Adam giggled once more, kissing his ear. "You want the pain…the pain, mon chou…the pain…"_

"_T-t-the pain…" Jeff repeated after him, into a haze._

"_29 days, Mark."_

"_29 days and you'll be perfect, pet."_

"29 days?" Gilbert echoed.

Jeff gave him a soft smile. "I was a chwild, Gilbert. The 29 days I lived without any fweeling of pain, any fweeling of hot or cwold…I…I just wanted to douse myself in gasoline just to fweel somethings but those 29 days mades my body go regenerated. Now, it loves the pain…it lives off teh pwain…"

"Hold on." Gilbert tried to grasp a clear knowledge of that. "Mentally, you've been made to think that you need to feel the pain to survive. It's like eating. It's like breathing. It's like drinking. You need it or you won't function at all, is that it? That's what the drug did to you, it's the mentally that you acquired?"

Jeff slowly nodded his head. "Ywes. If I cannot fweel the pain, I rwisk being numb again and…I don't want…" Jeff stared at Gilbert again. "I doesn't want that feeling again. It's howwible! It's howwible. It's the worst thwing I've ever experienced…even worse than almost dywing…"

"So your body is reprogrammed?"

Jeff nodded. "Why Jeff cannot die on usual circumstances…because Jeff's brain thinks that it cannot die because of pain…it dies because of not feeling the pain!"

"Oh…" Gilbert said, staring at him. "As a child, Jeff, we all think the pain is the only thing that indicates us whether we live or die. And you told me you were a child when that drug penetrated through your system. I think—I think that it reversed those thoughts of yours. I think that's why you can't stand not feeling the pain, because you think that if you're not feeling the pain, you're numb, hence you'd think you're…"

"Dwead." Jeff nodded. "Adam tells me that but I doesn't know."

The silence lingered and Jeff looked at the Matt that was curling up into a ball, asleep and looking quite fatigue.

"I'm scawred. I'm scawred. I hasn't been away from Mark for 10 years…and then I has to do one weeks of your livwing…I doesn't know how I gwonna live…"

"You're going to be okay." Gilbert promised, smiling at him.

"I'm scawred." Jeff repeated, the smile still painted freshly onto his lips, the eyes the only indicator of the fear that was penetrating through him.

* * *

"_**Tu as belle. Tu as tres belle, mon chou…" – **_**"You are beautiful. You are very beautiful, my cabbage (literally)." (WELL, my 'cabbage' but it's a term of endearment in France. It's like being called 'my rose' or 'my beauty' in France. There's also that type of dessert…un chou a la creme…look it up. ) **

**But anyway~! I thought I'd give you a little treat by showing that –ahem- Jeff shows how his body works, which has been inspired by Kassy's comment of "wouldn't you be dead by then?" well, not of his body thinks that's LIVING. XD.**

**X Sam.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Matt fluttered an eye, seeing the blurry lines creep into images of people and places. He sat up straight, suddenly feeling an ache from the extent of lying down there and he bit down his lower lip. It hurt so bad. He took a quick breath and then proceeded to stare around the white room, looking for any sign of humanity. His Father had gone home and Jeff was nowhere to be found. Matt blinked several times. His memory fixated on his blonde lover.

"_In about three or four. They ended horribly. There was a blonde that kept on coming back and forth. He was the one I abused really…" Matt blinked again, his eyes staring down at the floor. "He was just so…I didn't like him but I wanted him. I wanted to fuck him but I was disgusted at the thought of him. It was horrible being with him but it was horrible being without him…it's a blurring contrasting line of black and white. I tried choking him once…he just stared at me with those eyes that are slightly reckless and careless but he doesn't care about me choking him. He doesn't care about me kicking him so hard that his legs looked like they were going to break under pressure._

"_Once I even broke his legs, just to see if he'd care, but he didn't. It was like…he was immune to pain and when I saw how Mark was torturing you, it flickered back to that unhealthy relationship…I wanted to kiss you, yet I was disgusted at the thought…I wanted you but I didn't…I liked you but I hated you as well…it's a whirlwind of thoughts that I can't control to be honest. He just seems so…beautiful…but I liked him better broken or…even dead. I don't know why…" _

Matt shuddered at his train of thoughts. He remembered how violent he'd been, the abuse the poor blonde had to put up with.

… "_you're obsessed with that thing…"_

_Matt watched as his blonde lover clamped the hair iron towards his already perfectly straight hair, continuing to heat the strands. "I like straight hair."_

_The blonde nodded towards him. The French blonde shut the iron and placed the device onto the couch, staring at Matt with illuminating soft pink eyes. Matt's eyes were instantly fixated on the pinkness of his lover's eyes. They were fake, had to be but they were the only colour contacts his lover ever wore. _

"_Fraise," Matt said._

"_Fraise," his lover repeated, smiling softly at him._

"_Strawberry," Matt told him._

"_Straw-berry," his lover repeated, as if pronouncing after a teacher. _

_Matt stroked his hair, making a fist into the sleek strands. This was why Matt had adored his lover straightening his hair. Making a fist was just so easy, feeling the strands made him feel as if he was touching honey-like silk. Matt closed the small gap between them, tightening the grasp of his hair and then kissed him. Hand on hip, viscously demanding submission._

_The blonde willingly submitted, moaning softly as he took small breaths as they parted. Lust dazzled into Matt's eyes. He parted even more so when he'd heard his Father calling out for him before walking inside of the room. He gave a small smile towards the blonde. "We're heading out for dinner. Do you want to drop you off…or do you want to come along?"_

_The blonde looked questioning for a moment before shaking his head. "L'hopital, sil vous plait." _

"_Hospital?" Matt asked and the blonde nodded. Matt thought he'd heard him wrong but the determination in the blonde's eyes had made the thought evaporate from his mind. He wondered though if the blonde really needed to go to the hospital because of one of his bruises. He'd been a little more violent these days but he'd never thought he'd hurt him enough for a Doctor's check-up or something._

"_Are you okay?" Gilbert asked softly._

_The blonde stared at him for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Ribcage."_

_Fuck! How could Matt forget that? He'd broken in one of his ribs before just to see how fragile they were. Matt couldn't sleep that night and he'd been so agitated because he was so tired. The minute the blonde had spoken up, he'd chosen to pound everything solid into the boy's chest until he'd heard the sound of one of his ribs cracking. The blonde simply looked at him and asked him "done?" before telling him that he wanted a glass of water and asking him if Matt wanted one as well. _

_Gilbert looked concerned for the child for a moment before he sighed. "That's enough! Is anyone hurting you? I am sorry to say that no clumsy person hurts themselves this much…has anyone ever laid a hand on you? Your parents?"_

_The blonde shook his head and opened up his lips to say something before closing it up. _

"_He's got no parents," Matt offered to say for him and the blonde had nodded his head for a moment. _

"_Then where has he been going all the times that he's told me he's going home? Where is home?" Gilbert asked, staring back at the blonde's soft pink eyes. _

"_Everywhere is home," the blonde managed to smile. "Pretty."_

"_Would you like to stay around here for a while?" _

_The blonde shook his head before taking his bag off the floor then sighing softly. "L'hopital. I need." _

"_I'll drive-"_

_The blonde shook his head before walking out completely. Matt felt a pang of sadness rise in his chest as he'd sighed one more time. He knew the blonde could talk fluently if he wanted to instead of replacing French words and all. He didn't know where he came from or where he was to go but all he knew was that he hoped he'd be alright._

_Matt chuckled at the irony. Just moments ago he wanted to pound his hand through his ribcage again to see if he'd scream at the feel of his fist colliding with broken bone and now he wished for nothing but his safety. "Let's just go. I promise he'd be fine."_

_Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Where did you meet him?" he frowned at the thought._

_Matt had opened up his mouth for a moment. "Friend's party."_

"_What was he…?" Gilbert had shook his head and they decided to leave. Gilbert had noticed Matt bringing the blonde over day after day, watching the blonde leave only to smoke for a moment before returning. He'd also noticed that the blonde rarely ate anything but strawberries and chocolate. He'd never be around in the morning but was always around at night, just sitting down and talking even if he wasn't really able to talk that well. _

"Matt."

Gilbert was just happy his son was awake.

Matt had offered him a half-smile that was so weak it nearly broke Gilbert's heart.

"How are-?"

Gilbert was cut by Matt's voice. "He was that blonde. I told you I met him at a friend's party. Hunter's party. I went over there and I saw that they were hitting him and one of them was about to rape him. The blonde did nothing…he didn't move. He didn't speak. I told them to back off and they did. I wondered what happened before that or after that or whatever the hell I drank that night but somehow I was slashing up my own wrists and the fucking blood…" Matt held his head into his hands. "I _think _someone slashed my hands up. I _think _I was smoking something. I knew I was drunk."

Matt gave a reckless smile. "But I didn't know anything else. Everything was all so…vibrant and pretty and I… _I wasn't_. I was just holding onto that blonde and he talked to me in French. My head hurt so bad. He took me out and watched me get high on heroin and I slashed my wrists up again because the blood was so fucking gorgeous…and then I told him to come with me, _to not leave me_, because I didn't trust myself. In three hours, I broke all my morals and I've got no idea who I was or what I was. But that was good because neither did Blondie over there.

"He held my hands and told me that I had to know who I was. I told him I didn't. I told him Matt fucking Hardy was a complete stranger to me. He stared at me and told me he liked strawberries and then asked me what I liked. I stared at him for a moment and I cried. I cried because I couldn't think of a single thing that I liked. Then he asked me… 'do you like strawberries?' I shook my head. He smiled at me and said 'that's Matt. Matt doesn't like strawberries.' I threw up and cried some more. Then I woke up into his lap and hit him so bad I made him bruise. He never did anything and I didn't know what I hit him but I knew I just can't stand the thought of him leaving me. I wanted him to leave then. I didn't want him to stay around for me to get attached to. I hit him some more. Then I fucking raped him. He wouldn't leave. He'd just stare at me with those eyes. He went to eat strawberries and then laughed and said to himself 'Matt doesn't like strawberries'.

"I don't know how long I was curling up to his lap but he let me. He watched me so intently and then asked me more questions. Everything smelled like puke and blood and cheap perfume. I raped him again. Then I cried. And he held me. I asked him why he let me do it when he could've defended himself. He told me 'I like Matt'. I looked at him for a moment 'who the hell is Matt?' then he held my hands for a moment, playing the same game as me, tracing his finger across one of my veins 'a lost friend'."

Matt shook his head. "I beat him to the bone and he wouldn't have let me. So I left him. I held onto his hands one night, and I just took him out in the middle of the fucking streets. It was about 3 AM, and I gave him $20 and told him to stay there. I walked off. And I passed by about a week later, he was still there. I broke down again. I fucking cried until I couldn't cry anymore and told him to please go. Please leave me. He stared at me for a moment, and then said 'I hope you meet my friend Matt. He's very nice' before he just left me there. I didn't know what happened then. I just stopped crying but I stayed there. I felt so cold. I don't know. I could still feel every slash I made on his body, every cut I engraved on his skin - then I just came back home, smiled at you when you said 'hello, Matt' and walked past you as if there was nothing wrong in the world. I don't…I haven't…cried since then."

Gilbert opened up his lips to say something but Jeff had walked in and interrupted them. Jeff had done his daily stitching as Matt had seen and nodded to himself. Nothing new.

"Matt…I…"

Matt had grabbed onto Jeff's hand and then walked off. Gilbert was too stunned to realise that Matt wasn't in the room anymore and by the time that he'd realised so, he just stared into space - wondering where the hell he'd been all along.

* * *

"_Do you like cutting?"_

Matt had chuckled softly as he sliced his hand against one of the blades that Jeff had in his boxes. Jeff watched Matt hurt himself over and over. He'd run his hand against the same cut almost to perfect its shape and depth.

"Hit me."

Jeff raised his eyebrow.

"Hit me, Jeff. Hit me until I fucking _bleed_."

Jeff looked unsure of himself before he slid down beside Matt whom looked like he was serious. "Hit me so fucking hard that it makes every regret I've ever made in my life go away. Come on, Jeff." Jeff felt slightly scared now and he almost never felt scared anymore. He just balled his hands into fists and hit Matt right across his stomach, watching Matt's eyes shut tightly.

They were in the back of an alley.

"Harder."

Jeff obeyed his command, hitting him as hard as possible.

"Harder!"

Jeff had gotten agitated by that point, hitting him so hard that Matt had wrapped his arms around his chest and gasped, nodding his head towards Jeff.

"Jeff…Jeff…"

Matt opened up his eyes then stared at Jeff for a moment and with trembling lips, allowed his command to make its way to Jeff's ears. "_Rape me_."

* * *

**Perfect place to end it seems.**

**Anyway...**

**Just an update to let you know I'm alive. Updating soon this week! Hopefully by Sun-Mon, you'll have another chapter! Promise. Summer starts and I'm not sick anymore..._good times!_**

**xx Sam**


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